When It Comes
by ostensible
Summary: Nathan Scott is America’s bad boy bachelor and star player for the N.C. Bobcats.  Haley James is 21, high school educated and dead broke.  He’s in need of an assistant for his busy life and she’s in need of a job to stabilize her life.  NH, BL, CP.
1. Chapter 1

**EDIT!** _Just as an FYI!! I've made many changes to this chapter and to the next because for some weird reason--I decided to write in present tense. And I realized that it was too difficult, making it really unenjoyable to write the third chapter. So, I've fixed this... please forgive me for my grammar. If you see any hideous mistakes, please let me know! I also made a few corrections and tweaked a few phrases. Anyway, CHAPTER 3 WILL BE ON ITS WAY._

_Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays, everyone!_

**Author's note:** Hello, readers! I am terrible and I lost all concentration to _Three Years Behind_, which is definitely a **work-in-progress** rather than a lost cause. Stay with me, people! I appreciate the feedback, by the way. I thought it would be a cute idea and it's fun playing around with the characters and making up what their past lives could've been like. OFF TOPIC, I know.

This new story is original. I think reading a couple of fanfics where either Nathan or Haley are famous have probably sparked this creativity bug in my brain. I've never tried to write about them this way, so it's a personal challenge, but I'm up for it! I hope you guys enjoy this one. Oh, and obviously the title of the story is from Tyler Hilton's song, "When It Comes". I'm not sure I like it, though. Oh, well.

PS: I'm also still working on _Superlatives: Most Unlikely Anything_ for those who are wondering.

Enjoy,

_**SJ**_

**Summary:** Nathan Scott is America's bad boy bachelor and star player for the North Carolina Bobcats. Haley James is a 21-year-old, high school-educated and dead broke. He's in need of an assistant for his ever-busy life and she's in need of a job to stabilize her life. She packs up her life in D.C. and moves to Tree Hill, N.C. with nothing but hope in her pockets. NH, BL, CP.

(**Disclaimer:** All character, plots, ideas, etc. related to the television series, _One Tree Hill_, is rightful property to its owners, writers, and producers.)

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

**The Interview**

"So, tell me about yourself. What brings you to Tree Hill, of all places?" He chuckled, but for whatever reason, it remained unclear.

I nervously re-crossed my legs for about the sixth time within the past two minutes, searching for an answer—a good one. My real reason was a bit too personal for my tastes. I smoothed my dress—my newly purchased black wrap around jersey-knit dress that cost me fifty freakin' dollars; an investment, in deed.

"Well, I lived in the D.C. area for quite a while… born and bred, actually. Anyway, I want to expand my horizons, so to speak,"

"Mm hmm…" He briefly glanced at me, his analytical blue eyes staring from above the black frame of his designer glasses. Pushing them back to sit properly on the bridge of his nose, he peered down at the document in his hand.

Shit. He'd lost interest.

"This town isn't exactly known for its ability to expand anyone's horizons, you are aware of that? Miss… Miss—"

"Miss James." I finished his sentence, even though my name is visibly bolded and centered on the resume that he carelessly held. "I'd like to disagree. I aimed for a place not as fast-paced as D.C. was... _on purpose_," I explained assertively.

"Well, looks like you've come to an appropriate place, then,"

Ugh… what an unreadable person.

"Is there anything else you would like to share, Miss James?"

I let out a short sigh, not wanting to seem bored or, even worse, annoyed. "I'm twenty-one years old. All of my friends are just about ready to graduate from college and branch out into their highly successful careers or start grad school. My circumstances were tough and money was tight, so school was not an option for me. But, I need to be on my own and I know that my credentials are more than suitable—I have decent credit, a clean driving record, no run-ins with the law, no weird history, no nothing. I can cook and clean and if necessary, I have a strong administrative background. All that I'm asking for is a chance to stand on my own two feet, shelter, and food. I… I'm ready for a fresh start."

He smiled at me, but this time, I had a pretty good idea what was behind it.

* * *

"_Nathan Scott, best known as America's most wanted bad boy bachelor and Shooting Guard for the NC State Bobcats, seems to have gone on a spring break shopping spree. Find out exclusively from E.T. about his recent 1.2 million purchase, after the break,"_

He rolled his eyes at the announcement from the overly enthused woman on his plasma TV. Some people really didn't have lives. He couldn't help but to grimace at this person who was basically making a profit from discussing and gossiping about other peoples' lives. He grabbed the remote off the coffee table, cluttered with dirty dishes, video games, and emptied beer bottles. He hastily muted the commercial that was every bit as annoying as the show.

Having grown so sick of living in this pigsty, he actually had half a mind to actually clean it up. He suddenly recalled last night's conversation with his agent, that panicked feeling washing away with a sense of relief. A sickeningly satisfied smirk appeared on his face. Grabbing his house phone, he decided to see how those interviews were going.

* * *

"Thank you so much!" I took a firm hold of his hand and shook it eagerly.

There's that polite smile, again. It wasn't exactly like the one he had on his face right before he told me that I was hired. It appeared reserved… possibly guarded. I wasn't sure what to make of it.

"Mr. Scott, you don't know how much this means to me!" I said, as a brushed off the feeling.

"Oh, please, call me Lucas… Luke, whichever you prefer,"

First name basis, huh?

"Oh… okay… well, Lucas, I appreciate this. It was… uh… kind of my only option," I shyly, but happily admitted.

"Don't thank me just yet. Give it about a month or so." He kidded, winking at me. It didn't creep me out, though—no bad vibes. He carried such an air of professionalism. "So, let me go over all the details and what exactly your responsibilities will be, Miss James,"

"Call me, Haley, please." I paused for a moment, realizing that all I knew about this job was that it entailed duties similar to a maid, chef, property manager, and administrative assistant all wrapped up into one. In the job ad, the potential employer had been listed as _private_. "Details would probably be good. By the way, who exactly will I be working for?"

His eyes faltered for a moment and a breath hitched in his throat, before he quietly answered, "Nathan Scott."

"Hmm… okay…" I say. The name sounded almost familiar. I tried putting my finger on it. "Hey, wait a second!"

"Huh?" Oddly, his voice cracked.

"You two aren't related, are you?" Internally, I hoped that they were related, being that Lucas was so friendly and laid back.

"Actually, we're half-brothers," He answered, letting out a sigh of what seemed to be relief.

"Really? Just a quick question, but what does your brother do? I mean… judging by the 'position' that he needs filled, he must be…" I considered how to say it without being totally inappropriate.

"Filthy rich?" He suggested, earning a whole-hearted laugh from me. Soon enough, we were both laughing, easing that invisible wall between interviewer and interviewee.

"And I thought I was straight forward,"

"You know, Haley, of all the people I've talked to… you are the only one who doesn't seem to know who my brother is,"

A quizzical expression fell on my face. I wasn't sure how to interpret that. Was telling me that I got hired just because I didn't know who Nathan Scott is?

"But, you're also the only person I've met with who seems like a true hard worker and wants to be hired for the right reasons. It helps that you're a very personable person," He added in a very light tone. "And for that reason, I'll be honest with you, since the other candidates were a bit more… knowledgeable about um… well, my brother,"

Okay, now I was beginning to feel just a little confused.

"Is there something I should know?" A billion things ran through my mind. "Is he handicapped? Does he need a caretaker, as well? Because, really, Lucas, I don't mind. I'm willing to do whatever it takes! If he needs help bathing or using the bathroom or changing or whatever it is…" Oh my God. I'm babbling like a retard. Retard? Nice one, Hales. I had a really bad habit of running my mouth off and often, my mind just seemed to follow.

Before he could say anything, and it's obvious he wanted to, a buzzer sounded on his office phone.

"Peyton, the interview is still running," He reminded his secretary gently.

"It's Mr. Scott, your brother, sir," She replied in an almost bitter tone.

* * *

"Thank you for calling _Scott Talent and Recruitment_. This is Peyton speaking, how may I help you?"

"Transfer me to my brother, please,"

"Good afternoon, Mr. Scott. Mr. Scott is actually in an interview at the moment. Can I take a message or should I have him return your call?"

"Peyton, I know that. It's an interview for a live-in assistant for me. So, just transfer me,"

Even though the despicable Nathan Scott wasn't there, standing before her, the look on Peyton's face was just as distorted with disgust as if he was there. She was one of only a few who had discovered just how accurate his publicly displayed persona was portrayed. The two never got along.

According to Lucas, it was great, since Nathan was solely responsible for the resignation of all six previous women. Five had been one night stands who had expected more and the most recent secretary had been an older woman, which Lucas thought would've been strategic. Instead, she got fed up with his younger brother's attitude quickly and decided to return to her retirement, instead.

Peyton was well known in the office for her inability to politely fend off inappropriate and immature _boys_. She was very experienced due to the fact that she was quite the attractive woman with her exquisite blonde curls and cat-like gray-green eyes. Sometimes, she was mistaken as one of the client models. Lucas would be lying to say that her beauty did not contribute to her qualifications during her interview. But, being the witty and quick-learner (not to mention a Bachelor's in Communications in Design) she was quite an asset to his agency.

"One moment," she answered mechanically, trying to hold back any anger now freely flowing in her veins.

She placed his call on hold, whispering a whole bunch of obscenities, as she intercomed her boss.

* * *

Nathan smiled, pleased with himself for yet again, snubbing that front-desk witch. He always had trouble with her.

"_Hey, Nate, how are you?"_

He flinched, hearing the syrupy of his brother's voice.

"That great, huh?" Nathan asked, smirking as he passed by his bedroom mirror, stopping momentarily to watch his reflection.

"_Yes. Great."_ Lucas answered tersely. Judging by the level of discomfort in his voice, the potential hire was probably sitting just a few feet away.

He flexed his biceps, deciding whether or not he should work on his arms today. Thinking slowly, he then replied, "I can tell. You sound just like our jackass of a father. She must be a hell of a candidate for you to be kissing ass like that already,"

"_How do you know it's a she?"_ Lucas whispered, a hint of venom in his voice.

"What?!" Nathan tore the phone away from his ear and yelled into the receiver, hoping the non-female candidate would hear his voice.

_"Alright, Nate, well, I'll catch you later. Gotta go,"_

The phone went dead.

He threw the phone onto his unmade bed and sat down on the edge. 'Non-female' assistants would qualify as either gay or fans with stalker-like motives: both being very, very bad.

* * *

"Sorry for the interruption,"

I looked up from the fascinating (not really) design on the carpet to give Lucas my full attention. If I had heard correctly, he was talking to his brother AKA my future boss. And... he didn't appear too happy. Something negative seemed to be hanging heavy over this Nathan Scott character. I swore that I had heard screaming over the phone, too.

"Was… uh… that Nathan? Oops… I'm sorry. It's okay that I call him Nathan, right? I just assumed that since you said I can call you Lucas… or Luke… or whatever… that I could… call… him… Nathan?" I could feel the heat radiating from my cheeks. I wished my mom had kept her threat years ago when she said she'd staple my lips shut if I didn't learn when to shut up.

"No, it's fine. In my agency, we all try to go by a first name basis except when we're around clients or newcomers. Don't feel bad. So, let me ask you a question, Haley: do you like it sugar-coated or do you prefer it straight-up?"

"Mm… I'll take the latter," I answered without question.

"Nathan Scott is the star Shooting Guard for the North Carolina Bobcats. He is also my half-brother, but obviously we took different routes in life. So, I ended up founding this agency from the bottom-up. I won't lie. A lot of this corporation's success would not have been possible were it not for my brother's success."

This sounded good.

"Ooh, just a quick question," I loudly interrupted.

"Yes?" He paused to smile.

"The Bobcats are… basketball, right?"

He chuckled and nodded his head up and down.

"I love my brother and I'm sure he loves me, too. Lucky for me, you don't follow-up on athletes and whatever baggage they carry around. But, you see, my brother… he can be difficult at times. Really difficult. It's a challenge to work with him. If you agree to be hired, you'd be his tenth assistant. They all quit."

I felt my mouth slowly open in shock. I mean, how disagreeable could a person be?

"Before you say 'no', Haley… Miss James, here are the benefits: room and rent will be covered, as well as food, insurance, and all other fees you might incur to carry out any of your duties. You'll be given a company car and since travel will be necessary, that will all be covered as well,"

I couldn't really tell, but I thought my jaw had just hinged open completely. Those were some awesome benefits.

"Also, if you are able to work around your schedule with Nathan, which _will_ be busy, we can eventually work out something for you to take classes at any nearby college, fully paid by us,"

"I'M IN!" I screamed without even thinking.

* * *

The front glass doors with the white frosted _STAR _(Scott Talent and Recruitment) Agency emblem swung open and a sharply dressed brunette strode in, confidence exuding through her every step. She gracefully balanced several books and files, along with an oversized Kate Spade tote and a smaller matching purse. Dropping her books onto the front counter, she threw a sideways glance towards Lucas Scott's closed office door.

"Good morning, Miss Davis," Peyton greeted, instantly cheered by her co-worker's presence.

"Good morning, Miss Sawyer. Is he still going through interviews for _He-who-should-be-killed_?" She questioned disbelievingly. Why he worked so hard for his jackass of a brother was far beyond her comprehension.

"Brooke, you and I both know that if Lucas hires him an assistant, he won't be in this office as much,"

"Very true. How is she/he/it?"

"She—"

"Ugh… figures…"

"_She_ actually doesn't seem so bad—definitely an out-of-towner, dressed really professional, and I, personally, couldn't find a trace of skank on her," Peyton disclosed matter-of-factly.

Brooke's eyes widened signaling surprise at hearing this mystery girl's description.

"How old is she? If she's pushing 40, I doubt she'll last… her patience won't allow it,"

"She's young,"

"Hah! She is most definitely a goner. Who is Luke kidding?"

Brooke was another one of the very few... actually the only other (female, anyway), who knew Nathan Scott for what he was. In her opinion, he could never accumulate enough talent to make up for his pathetic personality—a selfish, egotistical, womanizing sack of shit.

The two girls shared a mutual hatred for their agency's most popular client and boss' brother, thus their ability to truly get along.

"So, when are you coming over to my side of PR?" Brooke asked, redirecting the conversation to a more enjoyable topic.

Peyton sighed wistfully.

This particular topic had been up in the air for several months. Brooke worked in the Designing department for Public Relations, managing everything from wardrobe for her clientele to advertisements for the company, itself. At 26, she was extremely successful with what she did and had been doing for the past five years, first having come on as a summer intern.

Peyton was three years younger and had recently passed her one-year mark as a STAR associate. She was more than ready to move on from the Executive Assistant position and to pursue something along the lines of what she had spent four years studying for.

"The time will come, my dear," Brooke said encouragingly. Lifting her paperwork from the counter, she winked brightly at the curly-haired blonde before walking down the corridor towards her own office.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note:** Hey, everyone! Thanks for all your reviews and comments. I'm glad so many people seemed to enjoy this story, so far! Sorry for the _took-forever-and-a-minute_ update! I had so many options of what direction I could take this story from the first chapter that I got confused. And then, I had writer's block. I just couldn't make the decision of whether or not I would have Nathan and Haley meet in this chapter. I like to draw things out because I'm weird and because I have a save-the-best-for-last attitude. Yeah, weird.

So, hope you guys will like this chapter and the direction that I've taken. Who's ready for SEASON FIVE? I so am. Oh, and by the way, _can you tell that I love italics_ for emphasis? Haha. Hope you guys had a Happy Halloween (I'm so late, I know) and have an even Happier Thanksgiving (in case I don't update before then)! (**Disclaimer:** All ideas, characters, plots, etc. related to the television series, _One Tree Hill_, are rightful property to its owners, producers, and writers.)

Enjoy,

_**SJ**_

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

**First Day on the Job**

Pressing my hand to my forehead, I shielded my squinted eyes from the sunbeams that bounced off the impressively chromed out Range Rover. As my eyes adjusted, I smiled quirkily, noticing a slowly revolving rim on the spare. _Who did that?_ Basketball players who spend money to spend money, I guess. Taking my index finger, I gave it a light push and couldn't help but to smile as it spun smoothly. I slowly walked past it, admiring every bit of the shiny SUV, as well as taking in the ornate fountain centered in the circular driveway. _What is this guy? Basketball royalty?_ I scoffed inwardly. And then, I nearly choked on my own spit to see a stretch Hummer, a sports convertible (I don't even know what it is), and a slinky looking Lexus all lined up neatly in a huge open garage.

Looking past the garage, I stared open-mouthed at a red-brick mansion. I'd never seen anything like it—in fact, I wouldn't doubt that it was custom built. The front door was painted a bleached white with matching shutters, which flowed with the edges of brand new windows. A wooden front porch stretched all across the front, encasing a stunning sunroom it looked like, to the right of the main entrance. And this was all just the front of the house. The home, itself, looked freshly made and hardly lived in. The grass looked exactly half an inch thick and perfectly green. It almost made me want to vomit.

Still standing on the driveway, I glanced over my shoulder at my 1990 Honda Accord—the only piece of property under my name. _I think I just felt my self worth drop a little._ I mean, if this guy played basketball for a living, he really couldn't be _that_ much older than me. And if this was the case, how could he own _that_ much more than me? I pouted, only a little, inwardly telling myself to get over it.

Looking around carefully, I crept towards the garage, to get a better look at that Lexus—my dream car. It didn't matter what kind, really… as long as it was a Lexus. The sedan's pearly white color gleamed brightly against its gold trim. Peeking through the tinted windows, I sighed wistfully at the creamy leather interior and imagined myself melting into the driver's seat. Suddenly, a Cheshire cat grin appeared on my face as I recalled a certain NBA player's brother's very words…

"… _You'll be given a company car and since travel will be necessary, that will be covered as well,"_

I squealed obnoxiously, realizing that not only did I get to live in this huge luxury home, but I got a luxury car to go with it. Okay, maybe that was too much of an assumption, but—

"HEY! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?" A voice boomed in the confines of the rather cavernous garage.

I gasped loudly, as fluorescent lights flickered on.

"WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING? THIS IS PRIVATE PROPERTY!"

Again, my eyes worked quickly to adjust to the bright artificial light and I freaked to see the apparent homeowner with a bat. So, what did I do? I ran. But, of course, being the idiot that I am, I ran with no sense of direction and looking over my shoulder, making sure he wasn't gaining on me. Before I could turn around to see where I was going...

_SMACK!_

I moaned, nursing the birthing of a bump on my forehead, and rubbed my ass that had landed not so delicately on the concrete.

"MY CAR!"

I heard the soft footsteps of sock-covered feet and looked up to see the angry owner come out of the garage.

I was armed and ready with an explanation and if necessary, pepper spray on my keychain. Surprisingly enough, the jerk actually breezed past and was inspecting the side of his SUV, so closely that he could kiss it. What a psycho. I was shocked. What kind of ass… hole… wait! Wait a second… if he was the homeowner, which I totally assumed… that… must… mean…

"What the hell are you doing on my property?!"

_So much for first impressions._

My first impression?—He was tall, dark, and really really scary looking. Clad in only a pair of basketball shorts and wife beater, I could see his biceps flex uncontrollably; probably because he was pissed and wanted to kill me in a chokehold. And his eyes… his eyes were piercingly blue. Dark haired guys with blue eyes had always been my dream type. I think they're just about any girls' 'dream type'. But, dark haired guys with blue eyes who want to kill me and might be my boss? Not so much.

"Hello? I asked you a question. What are you doing on private property? You know I can have you arrested, right?"

I awoke from my reverie of first impressions.

"I'm sorry, sir! I'm really sorry,"

I stood up, a little too quickly, for dizziness came over me. He seemed to notice and grabbed my arm firmly, but not too roughly to steady me.

"Thank you. I'm uh… I'm Haley James. I was hired by Lucas… I mean… Mr. Scott… er, he told me to call him Lucas… uh… sir,"

He removed his hand from my arm and was curiously observing me now.

"I thought my brother said he had hired a guy,"

"Oh… well, um… I'm a girl," I dumbly replied, unsure of what to say.

"Obviously. Can you show me some I.D. or proof or something? I tend to get a lot unwelcome visitors, if you know what I mean,"

"Oh, uh… yes, sir,"

I walked as quickly as I could to my car, without tipping over again, like an idiot. I pulled my driver's license from my wallet and my official STAR offer letter from my bag. By now, I was feeling like an imbecile. Although, he did seem to be a little rude, I probably creeped him out by sneaking into his garage. _Oh my God! He must think I'm some fan girl groupie or something._

I returned to him, praying to the Heavens that my face wouldn't redden anymore than it already had. I waited quietly as he skimmed through the letter and scrutinized my I.D.

"All the way from D.C., huh? You sure you're not a stalker or something?"

"Uh…"

Prayer failed. My cheeks heated up instantaneously.

He smirked at my response. Prick. Prick with a cute smirk, though.

He walked past me and towards the garage, still holding my letter and I.D. I stayed planted in my spot unaware of what I was supposed to do.

"You coming?" He asked nonchalantly without turning around.

_You coming? _I mimicked to myself silently, as I followed him a good few feet from behind. What a great way to start your first day, James. But, so far, he wasn't _as_ bad as Lucas had made him out to be.

* * *

"Knock, knock," A charming voice drifted into the quiet office.

Lucas looked up from the paperwork on his desk, surprised to hear someone else other than himself at work on a Saturday morning.

"Brooke? What are you doing here..." Glancing at his wristwatch, he added, "… at 9:30AM on a Saturday?"

The brunette slid in, dressed casually but still professionally in a pair of jeans, a khaki blazer, and a pair of slingbacks.

"Well, you know, there are a lot of Homecoming issues coming up for _Cosmo Girl_, _Seventeen_, _Teen Vogue_, and a couple others, so I just wanted to prepare some books for some of our models,"

He admired her obvious endeavor by the pencil behind her left ear, glasses propped neatly on her head and photo printouts in her left hand.

"You're really doing a great job with the PR department. And I know you guys a little short-staffed over there…"

"We're managing, but with the growth of our clientele… we could use some _assistance_… hint, hint, nudge, nudge, wink, wink,"

He smiled, understanding well her implication of switching Peyton to PR. But, that wouldn't be possible until he found even a half-decent replacement.

Deciding to change the topic, he asked, "Do you mind if I take a look?" looking pointedly at the photographs in her hands.

"Of course not. These were taken a week ago," she mentioned as she handed him the photographs.

"Hmm… I really like how Natalia came out in this set. I'm not too sure about… what's her name? She's new, isn't she?"

"That's Beth, from Georgia, I think. There's a lot of work to be done, but she's got such a versatile profile. And, that blonde hair is gorgeous _and_ natural! We can definitely snag her a hair ad or two… maybe even a commercial,"

Focusing on the pictures, he sheepishly admitted, "Ugh… I don't know. I've always preferred brunettes to blondes, so don't mind me,"

Seeing the wide-eyed, yet amused look on Brooke's face, he realized what he had willing admitted.

"Really? 'Cause I've always preferred blondes,"

He observed the expression in her face has softened into a sultry smile. His mouth opened slightly, taken aback by her candor.

His mind raced with his option of responses from ignoring her comment completely and retracting his own statement or scolding her for her unprofessional behavior by taking her on the desk and…

His thoughts were squashed as his cell phone began to ring. Seeing an obnoxious picture of his brother blaring on the screen, he uneasily shifted his eyes to Brooke.

"I'm going to need to take this,"

"I need to get back to work, anyway. See you later, bossman,"

She winked at him and let herself out of the office.

* * *

Walking into his kitchen was like walking into a dream. The garage door connected to a hall that led us directly into the granite and marble clad kitchen. A stove-top island that also served as a breakfast bar sparkled brightly as if yet to be used. Stainless steel appliances caught my eye as did a mini-bar nook embedded in the corner of kitchen. Despite the crafted aesthetics of the room, there's clutter everywhere and boxes and boxes of Gatorade. _I guess… he's moving in… still._ I watched Mr. Scott (I don't know if I'm allowed to call him Nathan since he doesn't seem as friendly as Lucas) as he continued to examine my documents while calling someone from his cell phone.

Since, I had a natural tendency to be nosy, I walked around, picking up trash every so often and absorbing my mind anywhere else, but his phone conversation.

"Hey, JACKASS, I thought you said my new assistant was a guy,"

I froze in my tracks, still clutching bits of trash—stunned by his crude language. I mean, it's not like I didn't curse… and 'jackass' was far from the worst ones I've used, but there was usually a waiting period with people that I'd met for the first time before I let my mouth run off. I peeked over my shoulder, to see that he'd turned his back on me. _Ew. You're the jackass._

"Yeah, well, I called to make sure that it's the right girl. Luke, you know how those stalkers can be... _and this one's a little... you know_," He whispered the last bit.

My jaw dropped open and repulsion distorted my face. Who the hell did he think she was? Some Nathan Scott-worshipping fanatical stalker? I didn't even know who he was until his brother had to explain. _Sigh._ His brother is way nicer and definitely not so damn cocky.

"Haley Marie James,"

(**Author's note:** I chose Marie because it's pretty popular. I know, uncreative. I couldn't find any resources that gave the character's actual middle name.)

I turned around fully, assuming he'd been addressing me. But, he was just reading my I.D. back to his brother.

"Okay, okay, okay. Okay!" he yelled, obviously irritated by the numerous requests/commands/questions directed his way. "Haley,"

I looked up to meet his eyes.

"Lucas wants to talk to you," he said, a hint of an unidentified emotion changed the tone of his voice. Maybe it was jealousy being that _his_ brother wanted to talk to _me_.

I took the cell phone warily from his hands, considering that so far, this guy was completely unpredictable.

"Hello? Hi, Mr. Scott… I mean, Luke,"

"_Haha. How're you holding up?"_

"Me? Oh, I'm fine," I avoided all eye contact with Nathan. I even turned my back to him—not to get back at him, but because I was scared that he'd know what we're discussing.

"_He hasn't chewed off your head, yet?"_

"Not exactly," I tittered nervously.

"_Well, that sounds like good news already! Anyway, Haley, I know that this is just your first day, so we want you to get settled in and everything. But, just to give you a heads up: in three weeks, Nathan is holding a small charity banquet in his house,"_

When Lucas said this, I couldn't help but to sneak a look at his alter-ego brother. He was eyeing me just as curiously, so I immediately turned away again.

"_He didn't want to, but with the move and all… he hasn't had the right kind of exposure, if you know what I mean. He knows he needs the publicity,"_

**Wow. **_**AND THE JACKASS-OF-THE-UNIVERSE AWARD GOES TO… NATHANNNNN SCOTT!**_

"_Tomorrow, you guys have an appointment at a local dealership so we can get you a car; unless he relents and agrees to letting you drive one of his cars. Stubborn son-of-a… anyway! I'll be stopping by with Peyton tomorrow. She'll be going over a lot of the coordination with you. If you ever need anything, don't be afraid to ask either of us, okay?"_

"Yes, sir," I answered somewhat enthusiastically. I was excited for the car, but so not excited to get off the phone and to be left alone again… with Nathan Scott.

After talking to his brother again, Nathan hung up the phone and we stood there in silence for a few seconds.

"Eager to start working?" – His attempt at friendly conversation, I thought.

"Huh?"

He pointed out the collected trash bundled in my hands.

"Oh… uh… it's a habit. A little obsessive compulsive, but a good one, none the less," I answered in a serious manner.

He had an amused look on his face that I purposefully chose to ignore.

"Could I have that back?" I asked a little more coldly than intended, looking pointedly at the documents in his hands. In my defense, he told Lucas that I was a little... "you know", whatever that meant.

The expression on his face vanished and he stiffly held it out forward for me to take.

"A little uptight there, aren't we?" He challenged. Folding his arms across the front of his chest, he smirked at me. He continued, "For someone wound so tight, how does it feel to move in with your first guy? I'm surprised you didn't wait for marriage,"

Ooh. Now, I knew what his brother had been talking about. But, two could play at that game.

"_Who said you're my first guy?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note:** Thank you readers for all the wonderful things you've all said! I'm so glad this story has been appealing so far. I know the general idea can be quite cliché. Thanks for the patience all. I was stuck in a huge rut after the second chapter. I wrote like four or five different versions of this chapter… lol. I really hope you guys like the direction that I've taken this story with. I do! But if you have any constructive criticism or suggestions, please make 'em!

In reference to the show… how come Nathan walks completely fine now? Haha. That was a super fast recovery. I just think that's silly. And Jamie continues to be cute, but if that was my son and he said stuff like I wish blah blah blah was my mommy then I would not be all sad. I'd straighten that little boy out. It's called discipline and Haley needs to lay down the law! Seriously, does he even know what a 'spanking' is? Lol. Oh, yeah and I'm sure it's not original but I nick named that psychotic ex-nanny of theirs _Scary Carrie_. What a wack job. Haha.

Happy Easter everyone!

Susie

(**Disclaimer:** All characters, plots, ideas, etc. related to the television series,_One Tree Hill_, is rightful property to its owners, writers, and producers.)

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

**Getting There**

I watched his mouth open – I mean, he must have something to back up his earlier instigative comments, right? Wrong. Without even a whisper he had shut his mouth closed. Nathan narrowed his eyes at me and typically whereas in this exact situation, I might be intimidated; I was downright pissed. Where did this guy come off talking to people like that?

"Not that it's actually any of your business, _Sir_. This isn't my first time having a roommate of the opposite sex. Besides, we may be living under the same roof under whatever conditions you have established, but I'm the hired help. Clearly it is not the same as you so eloquently put, 'moving in with a guy'."

I crossed my arms firmly against my chest, still clutching my I.D. and resume. I was angry. There was no way in hell that a job was going to dictate how I got treated by others. If he was going to give me attitude, then I was going to give it right back two-fold.

"Lucas did not hire me a bitch!" He complained loudly, obviously not caring that said 'bitch' was right in front of him. He grabbed for his phone as if calling his manager of a brother was a threat.

"Oh, hell yes he did… since he knew he was hiring for one!"

If there's ever a way to injure a man's ego, it's for a woman to call him a bitch. He stopped short of dialing and looked up at me with an evil glint in his eyes.

"What did you say?" His tone of voice was dark.

Was I scared? Yes. But I figured that I was already fired, so yes people, I went on… and on.

"What didn't I say!" He had a look of exasperation on his face which only egged me on. "Let me give you a clue. I'm your tenth assistant… or should I say was? Because let's be frank, Mr. Scott – you couldn't pay me enough to work for you! Going through two or three… maybe four assistants probably reflects something about them. But after the tenth hire it's all on you, pal. And from my impression of you, Mr. Scott… it is definitely all on you. 'Uptight'… is that what you called me earlier? Uptight as in implying I have a prude nature? From a professional prospective I understand if you have a few questions about my previous experience but my past lifestyle – I don't think so. I'm here because I'm qualified for the job. I am _not_ here, however, to play roomies with you and take your crap, like I clarified before!"

A slow and single applause began from behind me and from what I could see in Nathan's expression, it wasn't his favorite audience.

"Bravo. Ms. James, is it?"

It was the blonde bombshell of a secretary… assistant… whatever. However, her look of intrigue and utter amusement seemed directed past me and at him. Interesting. Suddenly I felt the symptoms of a headache coming on and brought my hand to my head. Ah, the forgotten bump on my forehead.

"What are _you_ doing here? I just spoke to Luke."

Honestly I had to say that I felt a little better seeing how he seemed to act like an ass to everyone.

Completely ignoring Nathan's rude inquiry, she looked at me with concern. "What happened? Are you okay?" She then looked at him with a steely gaze.

"Oh… I just um… ran into one of his cars. I'll be fine."

"You should sit down." I let Peyton lead me to the living room and she sat me squarely on a couch. "Nathan! Go get a—"

She was cut off as he gruffly handed me an already frozen ice pack. "Here." This guy had all the characteristics of a grade 'A' asshole yet seeing this small gesture of kindness had me reveling in it.

"Peyton, what are you doing here? I thought you and Lucas were both coming tomorrow?"

"Interrupting something, am I?" She teased. "Lucas sent me here to make sure you weren't bossing around our new hire and you were making nice. But, it seems Ms. Haley James here knows how to handle herself quite well."

He rolled his eyes at that. "Yeah, well…"

As the two continued their banter, I felt a little tired all of a sudden. Probably from the crazy day I'd already had in the past hour: running away from my boss and fighting with him. Not your typical day. My eyelids started drifting shut as I tried to pay attention to their conversation.

"Haley! Haley! Wake up!" My drowsiness wore off as I found both Nathan and Peyton staring into my face, both of their hands on my shoulders shaking me roughly.

"Don't fall asleep. You may have a concussion." Peyton explained with a worrisome look on her face.

"You guys are sooo… niiice…" I slurred my words and smiled goofily.

"Shit, shit, shit." Nathan panicked.

Peyton seemed to have the same look of horror on her face before I winked at her while Nathan started blindly pacing the room.

"Just kidding!" I joked, startling the two of them. "I just bumped my head on the side of the car. I'm fine, really." They looked at me skeptically so I rapped on my forehead. "See? I'm just a little… tired, I guess."

Peyton smirked while Nathan scowled and turned away disgruntled. "Like, I was saying Peyton, I don't think this," He used his hand to gesture between the two of us. "is going to work out."

Although I agreed, I had to admit that my only other option would be to waitress at some local restaurant and continue living out the motel I had been at. It was hardly any better than being Nathan Scott's assistant.

"Oh, no, Nathan. Lucas already went through thirty-two resumes and seven interviews all of last week and this week."

"What? Come on… just call back one of the other interviewees. Get her a job at the agency or something if Lucas likes her so damn much,"

This time, I nodded wholeheartedly with the icepack still attached to my forehead.

"Well, I have a better idea. Why don't _you_ give Lucas a call and tell him the things you said to your new hire that gave her the honest impression that you're an imperialistic prick she doesn't want to work for?"

Nathan made of a face at that and for some reason I got the feeling that despite his celebrity status, his brother was the last person he was willing to confront. Not to mention that I totally fell in love with Peyton, the front desk assistant, in a purely professional and non-lesbian way.

* * *

I peered over my menu checking out the homey café. This place… Tree Hill was slow, very slow. No one seemed to be doing anything except existing within the café while taking sips of coffee and turning the pages of their newspapers.

"You're from D.C., right?" Peyton asked me, while stirring some sugar into her coffee. I nodded. "How the hell did you end up here?"

A hint of a smile grazed my lips. "A newspaper ad." I watched her nod this time in comprehension. "Um… thanks again,"

"For what?"

"For taking me out to breakfast,"

"Oh, sugar, wait till you see what I got planned for our second date." She wiggled her eyebrows and I couldn't help but to laugh.

"So, um… you don't seem like the secretarial type."

"Yeah, I know. But that's a good thing. As much as I enjoy catering to Lucas…" She pretended to stick her finger down her throat. "I've been waiting for him to move me into the PR department. I have an illustration and design background, so… only time will tell."

"Why haven't you tried applying to other places?"

"Oh, I don't know… besides the fact that there really isn't too much work in this area, I like our office – the environment, the people, and even though a couple of our clients really know how to tick me off, the boss is a good guy to work for. Plus, I'm originally from Raleigh, so even though I'm used to the pace around here, I don't really know anyone except my coworkers."

"Lucas seems like a very nice person. I was so relieved after the interview. And then Na—"

"Sorry to interrupt… you ladies ready to order?" Our server reappeared.

After placing our orders she left us; she seemed a little too old and little too classy to be serving coffee. I watched her retreat to the kitchen.

"You know you seem to have a really bad staring problem…" Peyton cynically commented.

"I get fascinated easily."

"Ah. So, what were you saying? About… Nathan, I believe?" She smirks before sipping her drink.

My thoughts suddenly dipped into what I knew about Nathan Scott and a frown grew on my lips. "I… I just don't get how he and Lucas are related. Total opposites, those two…" I concurred. "Wait, you're not trying to get me fired are you? Talking behind my boss' back and all..."

"If you didn't notice earlier, I really don't think you need my help in getting fired."

I couldn't argue there. "Touché."

The waitress sauntered over to our table with what looked like a refill.

"Oh, honey, what happened to your head? Are you alright?"

I ground my teeth, remembering the big old band-aid plastered across my forehead. I offered her a pitiful smile. "Just my first day of work."

"Well, what kind of job are you working? I'd like to know." She looked exasperated in a motherly sort of fashion.

My breakfast date looked at me like she was about to say something then stopped herself, shrugging her shoulders.

"Let's just say I work for the devil,"

The dark haired woman hesitated but kept on smiling. "Peyton, this young lady doesn't work at the agency with you, does she?"

Oh, man. If I said it once, I'll say it again – what a small freakin' town. I mean, when we first came in the café, it was weird enough that everyone knew each others' names. But exactly how much do these people know about one another?

Without a word, Peyton shook her head from side to side.

"Unfortunately, no. I'm the new assistant to Nathan Scott – the apparent celebrity in this town." I mockingly noted.

I watched her head tilt to the left as a mixture of confusion and humor developed in her facial features.

"Karen, I'd like you to meet Haley James. Haley, this is Karen Roe." I smiled at Peyton's introduction realizing that the woman before us not only served at the café; she owned it recalling the sign on the window – Karen's Café. "Karen is Lucas Scott's mother."

Did I mention that Tree Hill was a really, really small town?

* * *

I collapsed on my bed. I'd just finished unloading my boxes and settling into my new bedroom. There was no sign of 'the boss' ever since our morning tiff. And thank God for that. His house was a total dump, I discovered. According to Peyton, he'd moved in a little less than a month ago successfully managing to trash the entire place by hosting 'house-warming parties' to say the least. With the execution of an invitation-only charity banquet underway, I had my work cut out for me. If possible, tomorrow might be even longer than today was.

I'd called my boss the devil to his half-brother's mom… however that family worked out. Of course I hadn't thought anything of it when Peyton greeted the older woman casually. She's a local, why wouldn't she know everyone in a town that could fit in the palm of my hand? But I should have held onto that observation when I decided to blab to the next person about my employment woes. Peyton did inform me that she and Nathan's mother were good friends and that Deborah Scott actually ran the second Karen's Café in Wilmington as apart of their expansion plan. But judging by the look Ms. Roe's face, she didn't completely disagree with my opinion about said devil. I laughed to myself, a little dazed from exhaustion.

Just as I started thinking that I might be losing my mind my cell phone went off. I reached for it lazily from the nightstand smiling at the LCD.

"Hey, sweetie!"

Suddenly, my conversation was interrupted when I found that the boss had returned from… hell or wherever it was that he came from.

"Hold on for one second. Yes, Mr. Scott?"

He stared at me for what seemed a split second before saying anything. "Just… just letting you know I was home. I'm sure Peyton went over it with you this morning, but just make sure you're ready to head over to the office by 8:00."

"Will do."

"Find a cleaning service. They may need to come a few times this week. Obviously from now on you'll be maintaining the upkeep of the house, but for the fundraiser's sake Lucas suggested that _I pay_ for a maid service. Not like I'm already paying for a salary and a half…" he mumbled the last bit.

I tried not to roll my eyes since this morning's situation had been left unresolved.

"I had dry cleaning done… lost the receipt and uh… damn, I can't remember the name of the place." He shrugged his shoulders. "But, this is Tree Hill. How many dry cleaners can they have? Right? I'm sure you can figure it out." I nodded still covering the receiver of my cellular, but he didn't seem to be paying attention as he ran right through his mental checklist. "You need to find a caterer and party planner who are willing to work with you on such short notice, contact some media reps for this banquet, confirm the attendees, get some basic groceries for this house, and… I do have a few loads of laundry,"

"Uh… um… Mr. Scott… let me…" I stuttered blown by his sudden list of to-dos as my eyes frantically searched the room for pen and paper. "I'm gonna call you right back." I said into my phone and hung up immediately.

"That's all for now."

He looked pleased and I felt downright stupid watching his backside as he left my bedroom. I fell back onto the bed, totally overwhelmed.

"Oh, and Haley, please make sure you're much more careful." He reappeared at the entrance, pointing to his own forehead as he stared at the bandaged bump on mine. "We don't want anything broken now, do we?" It would've been sweet if he was referring to both his belongings and me, but we both knew that he cared far too much about his precious crap than he did me.

"Uh, right." I smiled demurely, controlling any resentment I felt at that moment. God, he was a condescending piece of shit.

"Good night." He was quick to leave the second time.

I went to my door as he exited once again, locking it behind him. _Creep_, I thought dejectedly. I picked up my phone returning the call I'd so curtly ended in a much more sullen mood than before.

"Hales! Why'd you hang up so fast?"

"I'm sorry, Chris. It was my boss… he just started running through his laundry list of things to do tomorrow."

"Oh, so who the hell are you working for anyway?"

"Nathan Scott." I grumbled.

"What!" He squealed, obviously excited by the mention of a celebrity.

"Chris. How the hell do you know who he is? The only time I've ever seen you doing something sports-related was… looking at Sports Illustrated."

"Ha-ha. Whatever… he's on _E! News_ all the time. The man's a whore."

I rolled my eyes, humored by his admission. Only he would prefer catching up with the latest celeb gossip versus the latest sports game.

"You'd better watch your mouth, Keller."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. You want to talk to him?"

"Yes, please. Let me talk to my baby. He must be mad I hung up so quick on him."

"Nah, he's a champ. Let me go get him."

A soft smile spread across my lips and I felt instantly relaxed by having a meager conversation with someone from home.

"Momma?"

"Hey, Jamie. I'm so sorry I had to hang up."

"It's okay. Guess what I had for dinner? Uncle Chris made me 'ghetti! And it was yummy. But not good like yours, Momma! When you coming back?"

I laughed at his pronunciation of 'spaghetti' and was totally enamored by the way he rambled just like me. Of course, being four years old probably had something to do with it. I just have a big mouth.

"We'll see each other soon. I promise. I have a new job so things are going to change but it's good change. You understand, sweetie?" A bit of emotion got to me as I tried hard to keep my voice steady, strong for him.

"Yes."

"Good. You ready for bed?"

"No." He giggled as he admitted so.

"Well, I'll tell you what. If you get ready in the next five minutes, I'll sing you your favorite song and say your prayers with you."

"Okay!"

"Now go get ready and let me talk to your uncle."

I heard the muffled conversing between the two boys before Chris answered. "How'd you get him to go brush his teeth so willingly?"

"It's a secret." I teased before sighing a little sadly. "Man, I miss you guys and it's only been like four days." I could feel the weight of the entire day starting to sit heavy on my shoulders. I blinked away wetness in my eyes because even though he was miles away, Chris always knew.

Chris Keller wasn't really Jamie's uncle because he really wasn't my brother. We were in high school when we met. I had started working at a record store where he was already employed in the city. It was fun and easy back then. He lived with his mom, which to this day, he blames his femininity on.

I had friends at my school, but our bond was so different. That especially proved to be true when I became pregnant my senior year. My son's father was never involved to say the least. So, Chris stepped in and we became our own family. After discovering the pregnancy, my parents disowned me for not having an abortion. I moved out of my house and in with Chris' family who helped me raise my son. His mother, Lydia Keller, was a godsend. Chris was a budding musician, touring all around the local metropolitan area in coffeehouses and bars alike. He was going to make it big. The reason I left my son with him is because he and Lydia wanted me to do the same, so that five years from now, I could take care of Jamie and five years thereafter and so on. They wanted to give me the opportunity to regain some stability. After a lot of tears and a lot of second chances, here I was.

"We miss you, too. Just stay tough. Everything you've ever wanted – is right at your fingertips. You'll get there."


End file.
